#oc; Nithenoel

[multisfabulis]

Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us

Changes on the Horizon (Chapter 4)

Word Count: 4179

It's been over 7 months since I last updated this fic and it had to be a chapter that has given me the most trouble to write thus far!

I genuinely don't know why writing this had to be so much of a struggle. The rough draft was fine, for the most part! When it came time for the rewrite portion, I just couldn't be satisfied with anything I'd written for it, even after 3 or 4 rewrites. It got so bad that I ended up asking my beta reader/friend for help because I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong and I wanted their input on this to see if they had any suggestions. Then something akin to a miracle happened; I managed to find inspiration from an unlikely source (which I shan't divulge because it is NOT something I want to discuss on a public forum) and I was finally able to write to a degree I was both content with and found quality in. I still struggled with other parts later on but they weren't nearly to the severity the beginning was.

I don't know when the next chapter will be or whether I'll have just as much trouble with it as I did this but it'll be sometime next year! At least I can say I updated this fic more this year than I did last and that's good enough for me.

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     Several hours passed before Ven felt brave enough to open the front door. Her eyes scanned the area for any signs of Renard, hoping she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of blond hair or white clothing. He was sure to be angry with her, enraged even. People like him never took rejection well, especially after being humiliated in such a degrading fashion like he’d been. There was no telling what he might do to her upon seeing her again, which scared the utter shit out of her.

     It was only a kiss. A kiss, something she considered to be far better than whatever else he had planned for her. Yet knowing that did nothing to help calm the anxiety roiling in her stomach. The scene kept replaying over and over again in her head, forcing her to recall each and every disgusting detail. The way his body felt atop hers, how his eyes looked when they met her gaze, the warmth of his breath as their lips were about to touch, it…it made her sick.

     What was she supposed to have done? Should she have tried to fight him off or let him have his way with her? Was living in fear of retaliation better than living with the shame and guilt of allowing him to do that to her? Could she have done something differently to avoid either outcome? What was the right answer here? Was…was there even a right answer?

     She wanted to bash her head against the nearest wall. What was the point in asking herself all these questions? No amount of what-ifs, could haves, and should haves would change what happened. The only thing she could do now was learn from it. Ready herself so she wouldn’t be caught off-guard again. That meant keeping her dagger on her at all times just in case.

     Her mother wouldn’t be home for another few days yet so Ven was determined in holding the fort down until then. Once Mother made a safe return, they would pool their money together and leave Belleurseul at first light. She didn’t know where they would go but anywhere was better than staying here.

     For now, however, she had pets to feed. She walked out to the stable with tentative strides, peeking over her shoulder every so often to see if Renard was waiting for her when she looked back. Thankfully, she reached her destination with little to no issue and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

     The animals brayed and clucked at her arrival. She gave them all a smile as she filled one of the troughs with hay for the cows and sheep to munch on before turning around to scatter seed for the chickens. They dug in straight away, acting as if they’d never been fed a day in their life while Ven took the liberty of refilling their water. Then she sat on the stool Mother often used when she’d milk the cows and watched them eat. At least they were happy.

     It wasn’t long before her mind began to wander. What was she going to do about Renard? Dealing with him herself was out of the question since he could easily overpower her if she made any attempts to fight back. That left asking someone for help but who would want to help her in bringing the golden boy of Belleurseul down? That wasn’t even taking into account whether or not anyone would believe her in the first place. She’d be inviting hell to come to her doorstep if she came out about this. Was this what they called being stuck between a rock and a hard place?

     Maybe a walk was in order. A dusky stroll around the woods might do her some good, help clear her mind of things. So she quietly stepped out from the stable and made her way towards the forest that surrounded her house. It may have been stupid to go traipsing through the place so close to nighttime but she knew nothing dangerous lurked in there. She would be all right.

     The sky was streaked with shades of red, orange, and violet as the setting sun cast its golden rays across the land. She walked through the woods with leaves of similar color crunching beneath her feet and a chill beginning to seep into her bones. Some of the trees had already lost their dressings with the coming of winter, which meant the others were sure to follow not long after. She and Mother would need to start stockpiling food soon if they were to survive while on the road.

     Memories of the time she spent here flooded her mind. She remembered how she’d crawl into bushes or climb up trees to hide from imaginary monsters and how she’d dig into the mud after it rained to find and catch worms to bring home. Then there were the days where Mother played with her when she felt well enough to do so and hadn’t had work to do. Those Ven looked back on fondly. She was really going to miss this forest when she and Mother left.

     There was one spot in particular she’d hate to leave behind. Other people would regard it as nothing special but not her. To her, it was her safe space, her home away from home. It was a place she could go to for some peace and quiet when life became too much for her to handle sometimes. She wasn’t sure if there’d be anything like it again outside of Belleurseul. Knowing her luck, the universe would take it away from her just as she found it so she wasn’t feeling optimistic.

     Her heart stirred upon arriving at a familiar clearing. What greeted her first was the hill with its tall grass that stopped at her knees as she passed through. Then it was the climb up to the top of the hill. Awaiting her there was the rolling countryside bathed in light and the multicolored expanse looming above it. Seeing that in all its glory always brought about a sense of wanderlust, a desire to go and explore everything the view had to offer. This was why she loved coming to this place.

     She sat down amid the grass, basking in the fading sunlight. The wind ruffled her hair and clothes as she drew her knees up to her chest to keep herself from shivering in the cold. The sight was as beautiful as always to behold. Yet looking far off into the distance did little to quell her mind.

     What laid beyond Belleurseul’s walls? What was the world like outside the confines of her cage? It all seemed so grand and vast to her that she wondered if she’d ever see only a fraction of what there was. She longed for the call of adventure, yearned for it with every fiber of her being. However, there was one thing she wanted more than anything else, something she coveted with her very soul. When would they finally come into her life to rid her of her loneliness? When?

     Her gaze wandered over to a lone dandelion standing beside her. She thought it strange to find one blooming out of season here, especially with it being so close to winter and all. It was then she remembered an old superstition she heard about them way back when she was a child. If one were to blow the seeds off it, it would make their dreams and wishes come true. It never worked for her in the past but she had the urge to try it again, if only for nostalgia’s sake.

     Plucking it out from the ground, she held it up to her face. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to rely on an old fairy tale to help bring her happiness? God, it sounded so stupid, so childish, so embarrassing to trust in something like this but it was the only thing she had left at this point. So, with reddened cheeks, she closed her eyes and made her wish.

     ‘I wish to meet my prince.’

     Thus the seeds were scattered to the wind, carried off in the direction of wherever it blew to. She watched them vanish from sight, hoping someone out there in the great beyond heard her and granted her wish. Maybe, just maybe, this was the way to go about it. Only time would tell if it worked or not.

     Then there was what sounded like clattering behind her. She hastily rose to her feet, her hand going straight to where she had her dagger sheathed on her thigh. Her heart pounded in her ears at the thought of facing Renard again but she wasn’t planning on going down without a fight. She would scar the bastard right where it hurt the most so everyone knew of what he had done. She waited in anticipation for his arrival, her eyes trained on the opening she walked out of not too long ago.

     However, her would-be intruder wasn’t Renard. It was Dahlia, trotting out of the forest with Mother’s cart still attached to her. There was still cause for concern, though, when her rider appeared to not be in the driver’s seat controlling her. That sent alarm bells ringing throughout Ven’s head.

     “Dahlia?” She stepped forward to hold Dahlia’s face in her hands. “Dollie, what happened? Where’s Mother?”

     The horse only pushed her muzzle closer to her. It was times like these Ven really wished animals had the ability to talk. Quick glances over at the cart revealed mud caked on the wheels and marks resembling scratches along the sides of the wood. Were they attacked by a pack of wild animals on the road? Whatever the case may be, she needed to get to the bottom of it.

     Detaching the cart from Dahlia, Ven climbed up on her saddle and ordered, “All right, girl, take me to where Mother is! Quick!”

     With that, Dahlia galloped back in the direction she came from. Ven’s mind raced a thousand miles a minute as they hurried to wherever Mother was, wondering just what happened to her yesterday. It couldn’t have been anything good, judging by the marks left on the cart. Still, now wasn’t the time to be thinking of the worst-case scenario. She needed to remain calm and focused on finding Mother. She was going to bring her home safe and sound, despite her intrusive thoughts saying otherwise.

     Night descended upon them right when they reached yet another forest shrouded in darkness. Dahlia slowed to a walk as she sniffed along the ground in an attempt to find and track Mother’s scent. Wolves howled in the distance, scaring Ven more than she had been previously. So they were the ones responsible for attacking the cart, she thought with a grimace as her grip on the reins tightened ever so slightly. Suddenly, the horse let out a whinny and broke off into a trot.

     It was a short time later they stumbled across it. A large castle with a moonlit veil stood before her, everything except its shape obscured in shadow. She could just barely make out its arched windows set in the walls above and the chiseled stonework that gave this building its form. She would’ve doubted Mother being here if it weren’t for the odd lack of sentries keeping watch at the front gate. A noble wouldn’t leave their home unguarded for no reason, right? Was it possible then Mother took shelter here, believing it to be empty?

     Slowly but surely, they walked through the gate. Shivers ran up her spine at the idea of entering this creepy place alone but she wouldn’t be deterred. She came here with a goal in mind and nothing was going to stop her from returning home with Mother in one piece. Climbing off of Dahlia, she approached the set of heavy-looking doors that laid up ahead of her. When a couple knocks earned her no response, she decided ‘to hell with it’ and headed inside by herself.

     She stepped into what she presumed to be a foyer. The door slammed shut behind her with a loud thud and she nearly jumped out of her skin in fright. She waited for servants to accost her, question her on who she was and what she was doing here in the middle of the night. Yet no one came, leaving her to wonder if the castle truly was abandoned or if she had just caught a lucky break. Either way, it certainly made it easier for her to try finding her mother in this place. Steeling her nerves, she ascended up the grand staircase.

     “Mother?” she called out, her voice bouncing off the walls and high ceiling. “Mother, are you here?”

     No answer. Whether that was good or bad, wasting time around here wasn’t going to prove anything. She stopped upon reaching the landing and looked up at the darkened hallways on the second floor. She didn’t want to be here longer than was necessary so picking the right way to go was key. Deliberating on it for a few moments, she chose to search the east wing. Her footsteps echoed all throughout the room as she climbed the stairs and entered the left corridor.

     She was terrified. She wasn’t one to believe in ghosts and such but the creaking of wood underfoot, noises she could swear were whispers, and the feeling of eyes drilling into her were making her think otherwise. The suits of armor she’d occasionally pass by didn’t help matters, either. Still, she continued onward, determined to be brave in the face of potential danger.

     “Mother? Mother, are you here?” She turned round a corner and found herself in another dark hallway. “Mother, if you’re here, please answer me. I…I need you to say something.”

     “Oh, are you with miss Ravavyre?” a voice replied to her left.

     She stopped dead in her tracks. There weren’t any doors she recalled walking past so who did that voice belong to? She looked in the direction of where it came from, spotting a lone candelabra sitting atop a nearby table. Nothing seemed to suggest the presence of another person but she was sure she didn’t hallucinate that.

     Retracing her steps, she answered, “…Ye-yes but who are you? I ask that you show yourself.”

     “I’m over here, miss!” They sounded closer but she still couldn’t see them.

     She decided to approach the small end table. There wasn’t anything on it to indicate someone was talking to her through it, like a loudspeaker or a similar device, yet she was sure this was where she heard it from. Then it hit her. Was the candelabra itself speaking to her?

     “H-hello?” she quietly called. She waited for an answer, something to prove to her she wasn’t crazy. Nothing happened. “Of course, what was I thinking? Random inanimate objects don’t speak, Ven, what were you---”

     The candelabra sprung to life and excitedly replied, “Hello, miss!”

     She screamed as she jumped backward and fell to the floor. Okay, scratch what she was thinking earlier, she had to be going mad because there was no way in hell a candelabra just talked to her. It hopped down from the table and started making its way toward her with its wicks brightly lit. She needed to run, hightail it outta there, but she was frozen. Crap, crap, crap!

     “Calm down, miss, you’ve nothing to be afraid of!” it said, waving its arms in a motion that was meant to be nonthreatening. “It’s all right, I won’t---”

     Remembering her dagger, she whipped it out from its holster and pointed it in the candelabra’s direction, ordering, “Stay right there! Don’t come any closer!”

     “All right, all right!” It did as it was told, keeping its arms up. “Listen, miss, my name is Fria, okay? You’re looking for your mother, who happens to be miss Nithenoel Ravavyre, correct?”

     She eyed him suspiciously. He knew who her mother was and he didn’t seem to be harboring some hidden agenda or ulterior motive. After having her dagger trained on him for a few moments, she breathed out a sigh and dropped her hand. He had information she needed so she had to play ball with him. The second he tried anything, though, she wouldn’t hesitate to punt him across the room.

     “Yes, that’s her,” she answered, sheathing her dagger. “I apologize for my rudely behavior, I’m not used to talking candles and---”

     “It is quite all right, miss,” he assured her with a smile. He hopped up to her and took her hand between his to kiss it. At least he was a gentleman, if nothing else. “Would you like me to take you to her? I’m sure she’d be quite happy to see you.”

     Forgoing any pretense of subtlety, she said, “Yes, please, I…I was so worried when our horse came back home without her and I just wanna know if she’s okay.”

     “Aside from some minor injuries, she is all right, I promise.” Fria turned away to face the darkness up ahead. “Come, follow me. I’ll take you to where her room is.”

     “R-right!” She rose to her feet and fell in line behind him. “Thank you, Fria, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

     “It is all well and good. By the way, might I ask you for your name?”

     “It’s…Venlithea but I prefer to be called Ven.”

     “Ah, pretty name for a pretty girl.”

     The corners of her mouth curled up into a tight smile. He only said it to be nice, not because he actually meant it. Besides, even if he did, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take it as a compliment after the day she’d had today. Renard thought she was and that turned out so well, didn’t it? So she decided to just brush it off as she followed after Fria down the long corridor.

     The glow from the candlelight made venturing through this a little easier, which she was grateful for. She could see windows that were as tall as the ceiling with their curtains drawn to her left and large portraits hanging on the wall to her right. The people shown in them were from a family she didn’t recognize and their name didn’t ring any bells in her memory. What were they like? They had to be interesting folks if they had someone like Fria as one of their servants.

     “So, tell me, miss Ven--” Fria started, breaking Ven out of her reverie-- “how did you find your way here? I’m curious to know if you happened upon us by accident or if you knew of us beforehand.”

     “Oh, no, I didn’t know anything about this place. When Dahlia, the horse I mentioned earlier, came home without Mother, I simply asked her to take me to where she was and I guess she tracked her scent and led me here. This is actually my first time ever leaving home so this is all new to me.”

     “Ah, I see. I must say, you’re very brave for going through that dark forest all by yourself. At your age, no less!”

     She resisted the urge to trickle some bite into her words as she corrected him with, “You appear to be mistaken, Fria. I only just turned 18 a few months ago so I’m not as young as you believe me to be.”

     “Ah, I apologize, miss. Regardless, I commend you for your effort. It must not have been easy for you.”

     They fell silent shortly before arriving at their destination. The anticipation was killing her as Fria knocked on the door several times to see if the person they were here for was behind them. A voice that sounded similar to Mother’s answered and he announced he had a visitor with him. It was at this point Ven couldn’t wait any longer. She took hold of the handle and swung it open.

     The first thing she saw was her mother, who was in the process of getting out of a king-sized bed. Then her eyes laid on the bandages wrapped around her arms and the parts of her legs that were left bare. Her clothes were different from the ones she was wearing yesterday and her hair was tied back into a singular ponytail as opposed to the usual four braids. Finally, there was the simple cane she grabbed on to help her stand as her eyes widened in surprise at Ven.

     “Thea, when did you---”

     “Mother!” She all but tackled her into a tight hug, burying her face in her chest. “God, I was so worried about you! When Dahlia came back home alone, I thought you had---”

     “It’s all right, sweetheart, I’m okay.” She felt Mother return the hug with just as much strength as a hand stroked her back. “It’ll take a lot more than that to knock out this old woman.”

     Tears sprung to Ven’s eyes as Mother let out a hearty laugh. Having her in her arms again like this after worrying over whether she was dead or not caused the dam she’d been building since Renard’s assault earlier to burst. Sobs wracked through her body as she cried like a child in her embrace, much to her mother’s bemusement. She needed this, especially with everything that happened today.

     Pulling away to dry her tears, Mother asked, “Did you really miss me that much, Thea? I said I’d be back!”

     “...Yeah, I did,” Ven replied, hoping she didn’t hear the hesitation in her voice.

     “Well--” she wiped away another tear as she chuckled-- “I know I shouldn’t say this but it does warm my heart to see how much you love me.”

     Ven choked back a laugh. She hated lying to her mother but she couldn’t bear having her know the truth. She’d feel so guilty for leaving her there alone to be taken advantage of and that was the last thing Ven wanted. They just had to pool their money together, then they’d be gone from Belleurseul sooner rather than later. They wouldn’t have to put up with Renard ever again.

     Their happy reunion was briefly interrupted by Fria telling them Ven was free to stay the night and dinner would be served shortly. There was just the matter of letting the Master know about the new guest but Fria was able to ease their fears with assurances of him being fine with it. The Master, known as Ferreth, seemed like a decent enough person if he allowed her mother to stay here free of charge. Ven wanted to thank him for taking care of her before the day was over.

     Still, today was…a lot. The pain of losing her dear friend still lingered but having her mother there to comfort her made it easier to handle. They were planning to return home tomorrow so as to not be a burden on the people living here. They were the kind to not overstay their welcome. As much as she dreaded the possibility of facing Renard again, she’d be brave and prove she wasn’t scared of him. She would just need to act the hell out of it.

     Tonight, she would rest. Reality could wait.

[thenocturnalblossom]

[pumaskulls]

Bound's folder is finished! Minus Laz but quite frankly, he as a character sucks enough that I dont care to design what he looks like. Appearance privileges revoked bitch

[thenocturnalblossom]

[pumaskulls]

I'm redrawing memes with Ciielyn....if yall have suggestions feel free to dm me memes 👀

[pumaskulls]

visual reference of what my brain looks like working on EOTA and Bound at the same time (meme here)

[pumaskulls]

"I hate being half Blood Elf, man. People keep asking me why I'm crying black- I'm not even crying!! They just!! Fucking do this naturally."

[thenocturnalblossom]

[multisfabulis]

Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us

Of Beasts and Men (Chapter 2)

Word Count: 5889

Wow, it's been a while since this fic updated, huh?

I'm sorry for how long it's taken me from adding another chapter. I've explained this before in other things I've posted last year but long story short, a combination of writing other fics and my own procrastination kicked me in the ass and that's why it's taken so long for me to write and post this chapter. Honestly, I planned on posting this chapter last week but January hasn't been a good month for me. From a family emergency to catching Covid to even burnout, the rewrite for this chapter sucked. I even thought about posting the rewrite of lesser quality just so I could be done with this, move on, and never look back but I didn't feel right posting something like that when I've always wanted to post my fics in the best quality I can provide so I took last week off to rewrite the rewrite to make it better. I hope I succeeded in that regard!

Another thing, I don't want this fic to have only yearly updates. Believe me, I know how much it sucks to have fics you really liked reading and then waiting months to even a year for another update. I'm not trying to throw shade at anyone but I still understand the struggle. That's why I made a New Years' resolution to try and get the third chapter out by the end of this year. The good thing is, the third chapter shouldn't be that long so it shouldn't take me a year to write it AND I started on it this weekend so, while I can't guarantee when it will come out, you can have it in good faith that it's being worked on!

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[multisfabulis]

Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us

The Florist of Belleurseul (Chapter 1)

Word Count: 5728

What's this? Another update from me within less than a week? What is this witchcraft?!

I'm joking, of course, but this is, for sure, another update! For those that didn't read the notes for "Land's Trust in Light", you can disregard this but all I'll say is that it is practically unheard of for me to post twice in the same month, much less the course of two weeks, so I'm having a bit of fun with myself.

Anyway, I know I said in the last chapter I wouldn't update this story much because I consider this a backburner project, meaning I wouldn't devote much attention to it unless it was one of the rare occasions I had nothing else to write at the moment. However, I figured that, since I only left everyone a 500 word prologue last time, it'd only be fair to write and post the first chapter so you guys would have something to chew on while waiting for the next chapter. It's after this I'll be putting this story on the backburner to be worked on occasionally, meaning no frequent updates. Have fun with the foreshadowing I put in here!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     “Thank you, have a nice day!”

     At that, Venlithea Virthana slid the gold coin into her pocket. She managed to bring in a good sum of money today, despite the encroaching winter. Pride coursed through her at the thought of having sold that many flowers and she had to stop herself from jumping for joy. She instead settled on walking with a bounce to her step as she wondered if things were finally looking up.

     Days like today didn’t happen very often. Some days had only a handful of regulars show up while others none. Then there were days she’d be verbally harassed or even pushed to the ground, which would spill her flowers out on the ground to be trampled upon by unsuspecting or uncaring passersby. Those happened enough times she stopped being bothered by them a long time ago. She was highly thankful today wasn’t like those days.

     She had only one thing left to do before going home and that was to return the book she borrowed from the bookshop. She planned on exchanging the book with the one she regarded as her favorite so she’d have something enjoyable to read for the next few days while her mother was out of town. Gripping her basket tightly in her hands, she set off for the bookshop.

     Venlithea, or Ven as she preferred to be called, has lived in the small, quaint village of Belleurseul all her life. Anyone could mistake it for being a quiet, sleepy town in the middle of nowhere if not for the people. The village sprang to life every time a visitor dropped by and they would deem the occasion as cause to celebrate. She’s had plenty of sleepless nights from the noise these parties brought to her door. It’s partly due to this she’s wanted to leave Belleurseul for years.

     It’s been her and her mother’s dream to go and find a new place for them to live. A place they could truly, truly call home. In order to do that, though, they needed money and lots of it. Her mother was a traveling merchant, which fetched them a nice amount of gold, but her sickly nature’s prevented her from going on many trips. Once she was old enough to, Ven began selling flowers she grew herself as a way to help out. It wasn’t much but it kept them afloat.

     Working as a florist’s been hard. She wasn’t stupid to believe she’d earn tons of money selling flowers, especially in a rural village like Belleurseul. She just didn’t expect the struggles that came with being a flower girl. Better yet, the struggles of her being a flower girl.

     As beautiful as this village was, it wasn’t perfect. Some of the buildings were falling apart, the scent of fermented waste lingered in the air, and she’s known from experience how cruel the people were. They’ve made no secret on how much they dislike, and even fear, things different from them. She and her mother weren’t like them, thus they were outcasts, pariahs.

     She received the brunt of their harsh treatment. She’d hear the rumors and gossip spread about her when she walked into town. Stories of how she was a changeling born from fairies or how she was a witch sent from hell to curse them were just the tip of the iceberg. She knew they were utter nonsense but what point was there in denying them if the villagers continued to tell those tall tales, regardless of how she felt? The way she looked wasn’t her fault yet---

     She fervently shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts. She couldn’t, wouldn’t dwell on painful memories. Today was a good day and musings of the past weren’t going to ruin that for her. She needed to get what she wanted to do done so she could help Mother prepare for her upcoming trip. She hurried off to the bookshop, ignoring the pointed looks people gave her as she passed by.

     Within minutes, she arrived at her destination. The bookshop was a small, one-story building settled on a busy street corner north of the village. It had dark yellow walls that were beginning to flake with age, large windows on either side, a thin, wooden door, and a rusty sign hanging above with the word “Bookshop” carved into it. She’s come to this place ever since she was a child and the owner considered her his favorite customer. She stepped inside, the familiar smell of musty books enveloping her.

     There were stacks of books scattered across the wooden floor. Bookcases that stretched all the way up to the ceiling stood at the back and sunlight streamed in from both the windows. To her left was an old, rickety counter that came up to her chest and behind it was the owner of the bookshop. He was an older man with graying hair and round glasses sitting atop his nose and was reading a book when he noticed her. He grinned warmly at her.

     “Ah, Ven, you’re back!” he said excitedly, putting his book down and walking around the counter. “How’s your day been? Are you returning a book?”

     “That I am--” she fished the book out of her basket and handed it to him-- “and it’s been great, thank you for asking.”

     Fixing his glasses, he squinted his eyes and exclaimed, “You finished this already? It’s only been a day!”

     “What can I say? I’m a fast reader,” she replied with a giggle. “Any new additions for me yet?”

     He let out a hearty laugh. “Not since you asked yesterday but I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Now, go on, take your pick!”

     She practically skipped over to the bookcases in the back. It was a shame she couldn’t borrow more than one book at a time. It wasn’t as if the owner wouldn’t let her, it was just that she’d get too distracted with one she’d forget all about the other. She hated being somewhat of a scatterbrain when it came to books. Still, there was only one she wanted and she was going to have it. Reaching the middle bookcase, she took out the thin, hardcover book.

     “I’ll go with this one.” She held it up to him. “Will that be all right?”

     Taking it from her, he asked, “That one again? Haven’t you read this twice now?”

     “Yes, but it’s just so good,” she replied, playing with her hands. “I consider it my favorite.”

     “Oh, it has to be if you’re saying that! Tell me, what is it you like so much about it?”

     “Oh, uh, well, um…”

     She struggled to come up with an answer. She was a horrible liar but the truth was too embarrassing to reveal. How could she tell him about the deep sense of yearning the book left her with each time she read it? The way her heart hurt when she had to depart from the world that gave her comfort? How it filled the hole inside her by letting her have what she desperately wanted for only a short time? There was no way she could talk about such intimate things with anyone, least of all him.

     “There’s just so many things I like that it’s hard to pick just one,” she answered, hoping it didn’t sound as stilted as it did in her head. She technically wasn’t lying so it might’ve seemed convincing.

     With a guffaw, he put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Tell you what, why don’t you keep that book since you like it so much?”

     “Really?” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly take this from you without---”

     “Ven, I can think of no one else better to hand this book to--” he squeezed her shoulder before retracting his hand and grabbing his chin-- “but if you’re so insistent on paying me back, bake me the usual.”

     “Blackberry bread, right?” She grabbed the book from him and opened the door with a smile. “I’ll have it ready for you tomorrow morning!”

     She turned to page one right after exiting the bookshop. Her eyes read over the familiar words just as they had twice before. It was a good thing she’d gotten so used to reading while walking in town, she knew what accidents to expect. With that, she fully immersed herself in her beloved fantasy world.

     Flying down some steps with an unusual grace was easy. Pushing the sign above her up to protect herself from getting soaked, she could do with her eyes closed. She was small and agile enough to carefully dodge people barreling past her. It was when she already reached the third chapter she noticed the soreness in her legs. She decided to take a short rest and sat on the rim of the nearby fountain.

     The noises of the world around her faded away as she continued reading. All she heard now was birdsong and the crunching of snow under her feet. She imagined herself to be in a castle’s courtyard, a wintry wonderland. She could almost feel the bitter cold nipping at her hands and face and she shuddered. Her heart fluttered in her chest upon seeing how close she and the princely beast were to each other. She began to wonder if there was there that wasn’t there before and then---

     Loud bleating tore her out of her imagination. She looked up and saw several fluffy sheep gathering around her. One that seemed to be an older lamb pushed its way through the herd, bleating up at her. A smile broke across her face as she petted its head, giving it scratches behind its ear like she always did. She liked animals; they weren’t judgmental and she loved being affectionate towards them. Pets, strokes, scritches, and kisses were part of the whole package.

     Then it tore out a corner of her page and ate it. She let out an annoyed sigh as she continued scratching the lamb’s ear. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t miffed at the small display of destruction but it was better to forgive and forget. It’s not like the lamb did it maliciously and it was only a corner. She could get over missing a corner of an illustration-less page.

     Now was the time to be getting home. The sheep parted to make way for her and she flipped the page before crossing through the main thoroughfare. However, it was hard for her to focus on reading when there was a commotion going on. She looked up to see a crowd surrounding someone, with loud squeals and all. Ah, so the wayfaring Casanova was back in town.

     Renard Géroux stood in the center with his signature charming smile. His blond hair flowed down to his shoulders in waves, not a stray strand anywhere on his handsomely chiseled face. The sun complemented his dark brown skin and the sheer white of his clothes made him seem as if he were glowing. The most striking thing about him, though, were his icy blue eyes. Eyes that were now locked on hers.

     She felt a shiver run up her spine as he approached her. Everyone was like a giant to her but Renard was truly the embodiment of one. She had to crane her head up to meet his gaze, standing just at his chest. What could he want with her and how quick could she get away?

     “Oh, hello, Thea, how are you today?” he asked, flipping his hair back. “It’s rare to see you outside at this time of day.”

     Closing her book, she fought the urge to huff out a sigh and replied, “Hello, Mr. Géroux. I just got done running an errand I had to do after work so I’m on my way home.”

     “Please, call me Renard,” he said while flashing a smile.

     “Mr.---Renard, I’m in a slight hurry here so please, tell me what it is you want with me.”

     “Since you asked me so nicely, I was wondering if you would like to take a walk with me later today?”

     She hoped he didn’t see her bristle at his suggestion. The many women that huddled around him gave her glares full of daggers. How she wished she could tell them he was all theirs and that she wanted nothing to do with him. It was rather unfortunate she wasn’t a mind-reader.

     “Surely you know of the rumors about me, right?” she asked in an attempt to dissuade him. “Do you really want someone known to be a witch spending time with you? I’d be tarnishing your pristine image.”

     “I tend to not believe in rumors, gossip, and the like. Now--” he wrapped a svelte arm around her shoulders-- “how about that walk?”

     Quickly shaking off his arm, she replied in a deceptively calm voice, “As much as I appreciate the offer, I must decline. I was going to help my mother prepare for her upcoming trip and I planned on relaxing by reading my book.”

     “Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “I hardly think reading some old, dusty tome is better than taking a nice stroll with me.”

     She felt her temper flare up and forced herself to smile. “Some people may agree with you but I find good entertainment in books. Maybe you should try them some time.”

     “What, like this one?” He snatched the book in her hands away. “How can anyone have fun with these?”

     Her eyes widening in panic, she reached up to try grabbing the book from him while practically begging, “Renard, can you please give that back?”

     “How can you even read this?” He carelessly flipped the book open to a random page. “It’s so wordy and long and there’s not even any pictures in it.” Then he threw the book over his shoulder. “You don’t need that.”

     Her heart stopped when she saw it land in a nearby mud puddle. She dove to the ground and fished it out, praying it wasn’t badly damaged. Relief crashed over her upon seeing that it was only mildly wet. If it had gotten soaked, she would’ve been seriously upset and devastated.

     “So how about it?” he asked nonchalantly. God, she really wanted to tell him off but causing a scene was the last thing she needed.

     Instead, she took a deep breath and answered, “I’m simply too busy, Renard. Maybe when I’m free, then I’ll consider it but for now, I’m saying no.”

     Holding the book close to her chest, she turned to go home. All she had to do was see her mother, bake the blackberry bread, and garden. Tending to her flowers always seemed to calm her down.

     “So are you going to end up like your crackpot mother, then?”

     She stopped walking as soon as she heard those words. Her fingers were beginning to hurt from how tight she held her book and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from shouting. She was pissed, for lack of a better term. She could handle the insults hurled her way but her mother was another story.

     Breathing in, she stormed over to him and asked, “What did you say?”

     “You heard me,” he replied, crossing his arms and returning her glare.

     “I thought you said you didn’t believe in rumors.”

     “They’re not rumors if they’re true. I mean, your mother’s always selling these so-called ‘herbal remedies’ and passing them off as medicine, right? Wasn’t it because of one of those strange concoctions her lover died?”

     “You should fact-check your sources because you’re wrong on all accounts. Everyone knows how her lover died and even if they didn’t, that matter is none of their concern. Secondly, my mother’s a traveling merchant who happens to be an herbalist on the side. Herbalism is just another method of practicing medicine and is not something to be considered as witchcraft.”

     “Thea---”

     “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go help my mother prepare.”

     Turning around, she started going back home when she stopped suddenly and looked behind her shoulder. “And another thing. Go to hell, Renard.”

     Then she crossed over the bridge leading to her house. She was almost expecting Renard to grab her and demand she apologize but thankfully didn’t. He needed to be knocked down a peg or two. He shouldn’t have said those kinds of awful things about her mother. He was just like them.

     She couldn’t begin to imagine how hard it was to raise a child all alone. Her mother tried her best to give her everything she needed, despite the struggles. There were nights she’d hear her crying, nights she’d go hungry, yet she faced her with a loving smile every morning. She became a florist to a town open with its prejudice as a way to repay her mother for all she had done for her. She wasn’t a crackpot; she was a hardworking, devoted mother and she loved her.

     Her anger dissipated when she arrived home. It was a small, two-story house that sat on the outskirts of Belleurseul, with amber walls and pine green accents. It had an equally small stable around the back and a water wheel on the side closest to the stream. It may not have looked like much but it was home. She was going to miss this old house when she and Mother moved.

     She walked towards the stable and she saw a woman. She was tall, olive-skinned, and a little on the plump side but it only added to her beauty. Her rich, burgundy hair was tied back into a thick braid and fell past her shoulder as she spread a handful of seed over the ground to feed the chickens. She turned to face her upon hearing footsteps and eyes the color of toasted pecans warmed at the sight of her. This was her adoring mother, Nithenoel Ravavyre.

     Coming out of the stable, she greeted her daughter with a quick hug and kiss before asking, “Hi, sweetheart, how was work today?”

     “Hello, Mother, it was great actually. Here, let me show you.” She took some of the coin she gathered today out of her pocket and presented them to her. “There’s more where those came from.”

     “Oh my…” Mother said under her breath, bringing the handful of coin closer to see them clearly.

     “Today must’ve been my lucky day!”

     “I’ll say!” She closed her fingers over the coins. “Listen, how about we go inside and put those away so we can talk, hmm?”

     The two women climbed up the stone steps leading to the front door. It was a dark, well-made door with a makeshift peephole in the center. Ven was hit with a blast of warmth when Mother opened the door and it felt very nice against the cold. The fireplace must be lit if it was this warm.

     Upon entering, they passed by the narrow staircase that led up to the second floor and cut across the living room. It was small but it was the perfect size for them. The walls were a nice cream color and hanging off them were several paintings Mother had done when she was younger, way before her time. To their right was a light wood cupboard where Ven set down her basket and book and above it was an oval mirror. On the other side was a small, brown sofa and a low table sat in front of it on top of a big, dark blue rug. At the back was the lit fireplace and windows where sunlight was streaming in, a couple chairs were placed in front of the fireplace with a thin blanket hanging on the back of one of them. The next room they went in was the kitchen.

     It was tiny. There were four cabinets above the four counters that stretched from one honeyed wall to the tall pantry. On the opposite side of the counters was a small breakfast nook that served as their dining table with a couple stools sitting under it. A footstool was tucked in the nook’s corner for when Ven needed to fetch something from the cabinets or pantry, which was every day. She couldn’t wait to have a bigger kitchen when they finally moved.

     Mother sat at the nook while she opened one of the counter doors. Inside were linens meant to come out when they had guests over but that wasn’t what she was looking for. She tossed some sheets aside to uncover a mason jar. It was heavy and she set it down on the nook. Unscrewing the top revealed tons of gold inside from years of working and saving up.

     It was what they called their nest egg. They needed some serious money for their dream to become a reality and this was the result of their hard work. They’d have more if times weren’t rough and they didn’t have to dip into their savings but no use in dwelling on those.

     As she was dropping her coin into the jar, Mother asked, “So, any other news to share?”

     “Well, I returned the book I borrowed yesterday and guess what?” She screwed the top back on as Mother looked at her expectantly. “The owner gave me my favorite book for free!”

     “That’s great, honey. I suppose it’s the one you set on the cupboard back there?” She leaned back on the stool to see it. “For free, too?”

     “Well, I have to bake him his blackberry bread but it was his deal, not mine!” she replied, putting the jar back in its spot under the counter. The sheets she tossed aside earlier were thrown over the jar to hide it better.

     Giggling, Mother leaned forward and said, “I know, honey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. That book’s the one where the beast falls in love with the girl who shows him the true meaning of love, right?”

     “Mm-hmm and it’s all mine!”

     “I’m happy for you, Thea. You know, speaking of, have you found someone you can call your prince yet?”

     She let out a sigh upon hearing the question. It was hard to find and be interested in someone when the whole village seemed to hate her. She had people she’d fancied before but she knew to keep her expectations low and realistic. If she did have a “prince”, they certainly weren’t in Belleurseul.

     “Mother, you know I'm not interested in romance,” she replied, bringing the footstool out of its corner.

     “Not interested or haven’t found anyone yet?” Mother asked.

     “Both!” She set the footstool down in front of a counter and climbed up it. “I don’t see the point of trying to find love here since we’ll be leaving Belleurseul sometime in the future.”

     “What about that Renard fellow? I hear he’s back in town.”

     “Ugh, Mother, don’t even joke about that. That man is an arrogant and pompous jerk who thinks he’s the hottest thing alive. I don’t wanna be anywhere near him.”

     “My, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak so strongly about someone before. Did he do anything to you?”

     “No, it’s just…he makes me uncomfortable.”

     “Uncomfortable?”

     “Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but--” she held a bundle of sugar in her hands before setting it down beside her-- “he gives me bad vibes. He hasn’t said or done anything to raise any red flags for me but he just gives me a weird feeling.”

     She couldn’t explain it any other way. She could sense there being something off about him since their first meeting years ago. He seemed normal, if a little too forward at times, but she couldn’t shake off the apprehension she felt around him. Maybe it was her dislike of people like him that gave her discomfort. Either way, she knew she didn’t want to be alone in a room with him.

     “Thea, you still have your dagger, right?” Mother asked with an unusually serious expression.

     She stepped down from the footstool and smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Mother, I always keep it with me when I go out. See?” She walked around the nook and lifted her skirt up to reveal the small leather holster strapped to her thigh. “If he tries anything, I’ll make sure to defend myself.”

     “I know you will, hon, I just can’t help worrying about you.” She turned in her seat to cup her cheek. “You’re my only child, Thea. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

     “I’ll be fine, Mother,” she said, laying her hand atop hers to comfort her. “Trust me.”

     Without a word, Mother stood up and kissed her on the forehead. Then she hugged her, her arms wrapped tightly around her tiny body. She returned it in the hopes it’d ease her anxiety. They’ve only really had each other for as long as she could remember; they were each others’ world, in a sense. It’d shatter if something happened to one or the other so she understood her mother’s concern. The best she could offer were words of assurance and those had to be enough.

     Mother pulled away and resumed their conversation from earlier. She was good about alleviating the gloomy atmosphere so she welcomed the change in topic. It shifted back to her lack of interest in love, with Mother expressing that she only wanted her to be happy and her saying that she had a whole lifetime ahead to find love so she wasn’t worried. One of a kind, the words Mother used to describe her. She wondered if she really was so special.

     She stayed in the kitchen to bake while Mother went down into the cellar to make some last-minute elixirs. The cellar was where she worked to create her herbal medicine to sell during her time on the road. She wouldn’t need to travel so far if the villagers believed she wasn’t going to poison them but her reputation was considered to be unsalvageable at this point. Ven was only allowed to tend to the herbs down there because Mother refused to let her help in the synthesizing process. There was a safety risk involved, or so she said.

     Baking was a mindless activity. She didn’t need to read the labels on the measuring cups or fill the spoons to the brim, she’d done this so many times. Kneading the dough let her focus on her hands and work out any energy she may have needed to spend. It gave them food if they had none, it gave her an outlet. The last thing she did was stick the blackberry dough into the fireplace to cook. She watched as the dough expanded into its loaf shape and her mouth was watering at the smell of it. She took the newly-baked bread out and waited for it to cool down before cutting it. One half was for Mother while the other for the bookshop owner.

     Then it was time to pack. They began loading up the wagon with the goods Mother wanted to sell, making sure she had enough oil in her lantern to last her for several days, and stocking her with plenty of food for both her and the horse. Dahlia was a beautiful Clydesdale, large and powerful but sweet as can be, with a chestnut coat, blonde mane, and the most soulful brown eyes. She’s been with them ever since she was a young foal and was used to taking long trips such as these.

     “Well, I think I’m set to go,” Mother said, fastening her hat as she walked up to the wagon. “I’ll be back in a few days so remember to feed the animals and---”

     “Take care of myself, I know, Mother, don’t worry,” she cut off. “Everything will be fine.”

     Letting out a small laugh, she gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Thea.”

     “Love you too.” She returned the hug. “See you soon.”

     Mother climbed up to the seat and took hold of the reins. Ven approached Dahlia to stroke her neck, asking her to keep themselves safe till they were home again. With a cry, the wagon began to move and turned on the road heading out of the village. Mother and Ven waved each other goodbye.

     “Stay safe!”

     “You too!”

     It was late in the afternoon when Mother left. She went over her mental checklist to see what else she needed to do. The animals were fed their lunch, she’d done all her chores for the day, and she took care of the bread for tomorrow. She had the rest of the daylight hours free and she knew exactly how she wanted to spend them. She strode back inside to read her book.

     Before she picked it up, she glanced at the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her as she thought about the rumors the villagers spread of her. She wasn’t a witch or a changeling, that much she knew for sure. But what other explanation was there for how she looked? No one looked like her, no human in the whole world ever looked like her, so why did she? Books held the answers she wanted but those were fantastical and she lived in reality. A reality that couldn’t apply to her.

     Her face seemed normal enough, even if it resembled a fairy’s from an illustration in one of her books. Bright, round eyes, small button nose, rosy cheeks, and full lips were all the defining marks of a fey. Maybe her skin counted as well, since she’s heard it described as being pale as moonlight. Long, snow white locks of hair framed her face in a way that matured her as the rest, although tied back, cascaded down her back like a waterfall to her waist. Then there were her eyes.

     Everything else could be explained away but not her eyes. They were truly a mystery, an impossibility made possible. They were a vivid violet, similar to dark amethyst gems or bellflowers in full bloom. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could determine why she was born with them but that didn’t stop the villagers from making their own interpretations. They weren't quiet about it, either.

     Maybe the reason she loved this book was because she could sympathize with the beast. She understood what it was like to be feared, hated simply for her looks. They were both cursed but his was a spell that could break. Hers was a matter of permanence, something she was stuck with till the day she passed on from this world. Who could love a beast like her?

     She needed to escape. Her emotions were starting to get the best of her and staying in reality any longer would surely cause them to overflow. She gingerly grabbed the book, sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace, and began to read from where she left off at. This was fine.

     Be patient, she told herself. Just wait a little more and you won’t feel this way ever again. You’ll find your prince. You won’t be lonely anymore. You’ll be loved and accepted, you just need to wait a little longer.

     She hoped that day would come soon.